A New Team
by Lizabeth S. Tucker
Summary: Tony meets his new team and hires some new staff. Part 2 of the Sheriff of Stillwater series. Each chapter is complete and can be read alone. Everyone will have their own chapter, new and already on the Stillwater Sheriff's Department.
1. Bubba Wright

Chapter 1: Bubba Wright

Because Tony was aware of Deputy Sheriff Bubba Wright's off-duty activities with Ed Gantry, before the former sheriff was arrested, he decided that he would be his first ride-along.

"Sheriff DiNozzo, are you ready?" Bubba asked, standing in the doorway of Tony's glass-enclosed office.

"Definitely." Tony got to his feet, leaving the organizing of the office gladly behind. "Take me through your normal day."

"We have three patrol cars, so it is usually two on duty with the other as backup. Did the mayor tell you that there is a designated sheriff's vehicle as well?"

"No, he didn't. I'll check it out later," Tony replied.

"Okay. We check out our rifles, make sure we have extra batteries for the flashlights and radios. Ammo, of course." Bubba popped the trunk of his patrol vehicle while Deputy Chris Townsend did the same on his own car.

"Depending on how busy the previous shift was, we might need to clean the car out." Bubba smirked. "A big city fed like you has probably never had to do that."

Tony laughed. "Don't bet on it. Detailing the evidence van was one of Gibbs' favorite punishments. Before that, I was a cop. I don't want to remember how much puke and piss, blood and trash I've cleaned out of my department-issued vehicles over the years."

"You were a cop?" Bubba studied Tony thoughtfully.

"Uniform in Peoria, uniform to detective in Philadelphia, detective in Baltimore."

"Then a fed in D. C."

Tony nodded. "Yep. And now a small town sheriff."

Bubba tried to hide his smile without success.

Once they were in the patrol car together, Bubba explained how he and Chris would divide the town and surrounding area, focusing on the poorer sections. "We go through their neighborhoods on a sweep, but our wealthy residents around here usually have cameras, sensors, and alarms." Bubba shrugged. "Obviously we'll come if they call. But the majority of our time is spent patrolling in middle and poorer neighborhoods."

Tony nodded. "I can understand that. Reality is that they are more likely to be the victims of crime. The least we can do is try to stop it or respond quickly enough that we might catch the baddies. Or let them know that we care, that we're looking out for them."

"Exactly. Most of the people are out working or looking for jobs if they got laid off at the mine."

"I heard it was shut down. How many lost their jobs?"

"Around sixty-eight total if you count the small office staff as well as the miners. The bad conditions and the fact that most of our younger residents leave for college or better paying jobs, never returning, meant the numbers were cut down considerably. The last time you were here on business, it would've been about three hundred people."

"What's Chuck Winslow doing to help?"

The deputy snorted. "Winslow is trying to get himself out from under the fines and charges he's facing. He's dumping all the responsibility and blame on his former son-in-law."

"On Nick Kingston? Hell, he's been in prison for what? Five years now?" Tony shook his head in disbelief. "Are there other jobs in the area?"

Bubba ran his hand over his close-cut dark brown crewcut. "The lumberyard is expanding. The owners have been selling kits that customer without a lot of experience can easily assemble. They're been gettin' real popular."

"An easier Ikea?"

"Pretty much."

"Can they hire the miners?" Tony asked.

"With some training. Mayor Dayton managed to get some funds from the feds as well as the state to help fund classes. They'll at least get unemployment checks while they're waiting to be hired."

Tony was scanning the area outside the moving car, certain Bubba was doing the same. It was a cop habit he had never lost. His first PTO always impressed situational awareness on him.

They drove on paved streets through well-manicured neighborhoods, many with imposing privacy gates. Gravel roads were lined by modest houses, maintained by middle class families. Dirt roads led to both poorer areas as well as farms.

"The mayor wasn't clear. Does Stillwater have their own 911 service?"

Bubba snickered. "Dayton's a good mayor, but he's crap with the technical stuff. The county runs the emergency phone services for fire-rescue, ambulance, and police. Our designated area isn't sharply defined. We handle calls in both the town and the surrounding farms."

"How far out?"

"Wherever we're needed." He pulled the car into a bypass lane, flipping on his flashing light bar on the roof, while putting it in park. "The Staties have one small station in the whole county. Only three to five people staff it since their budget was cut by the legislature last year."

"For the whole county?" Tony paused to reflect a moment. "Okay, we'll continue to support them the best we can. But our people will always come first."

* _Stillwater Sheriff,_ *came a crackling voice over the radio.

Bubba picked up the microphone. "Stillwater here, Dispatch."

* _Loud argument, sounds of breaking glass. 15 Mockingbird._ *

"Copy. 15 Mockingbird. Stillwater out." Bubba put the mike back in its holder, pulling out onto the road without turning off the light bar.

"No codes," Tony observed.

"Too many different ones among all the different agencies, so we all opted for plain English. Less chance of a mistake or misunderstanding."

"What can you tell me about where we're going, Bubba?"

"Roger and Emily Dawson. He's an Army vet, came back from Iraq about a year ago. Got a job at the mine, but since it closed, he's been trying to find something local. He's frustrated, embarrassed that Emily's job as cashier at the Piggly-Wiggly is all that's keeping them barely above water. Roger doesn't want to apply for unemployment, thinks it is welfare."

Tony frowned. "Is he abusive?"

"Never physical. But I've had to go out there a couple of times to calm him down. He and Emily have had a few screaming matches. It's hard on their boy."

"A child?" Tony had a flashback to his own childhood, of his parents fighting when drunk. "Damn. How old?"

"Rory's six. He hides when it gets bad, but…" the deputy's voice trailed off.

"But he still hears everything," Tony said softly.

"Yeah."

They pulled into the driveway of a small white bungalow. Bubba turned to face Tony as he put the car in park, turning off the lights.

"Can you stay back, let me get Roger calmed down? I don't want him to think he's being ganged up on."

Green eyes met brown as Tony considered the request. He knew just how quickly a domestic could turn ugly. "You stay within my sight at all times."

"Agreed."

They got out of the car in unison, Bubba heading to the porch where a pretty young woman stood, wringing her hands. Tony, spotting a flash of small red sneakers in the branches, sauntered to an old oak tree in the front yard, casually leaning against the trunk while keeping an eye on Bubba.

He heard a rustling from above. A smile slipped across his face. Seeing a man come out of the house to sit on a bench on the porch, Tony relaxed a bit.

Without looking away from the porch, Tony spoke to the boy hiding above him. "Good spot. I wasn't coordinated enough to hide in the only tree in our yard. The one time I tried to climb it, I fell out."

"Where you hurt?" came a soft voice.

"Broke my arm. Two places."

"That must've hurt."

"Yeah, just a bit."

"Are you gonna arrest my daddy?"

"Has he done anything bad?"

"He yelled at my mommy."

"Well, that's pretty bad, but I don't think there's a law against it."

There was more rustling and the sound of sneakers scraping on bark. Tony, convinced Bubba had everything under control, looked up, just in time to catch Rory Dawson as he slid down the trunk.

Setting him safely on the ground, Tony stuck out his hand. "I'm Tony."

Solemnly, the child shook his hand. "My name is Rory."

"Pleased to meet you, Rory. You okay?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Looks like Deputy Bubba has everything under control. Your mom is about to come after us. Ready to head up to the house?"

"Why did _you_ hide?"

"Because my mom and dad would be screaming at each other."

"Yeah, mine, too."

"You know it has nothing to do with you, right?"

"I guess," Rory repeated, not sounding convinced.

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Emily Dawson came running down to where Tony and Rory stood. She swept her son up in her arms, eyeing Tony with suspicion.

"He seems okay, Mrs. Dawson. I'm Sheriff Tony DiNozzo. Sorry about the civilian clothes. My uniform is on order." He held his hand up at the flare of fear in her red-rimmed eyes. "Deputy Wright is just showing me around."

"Mo-om." Rory was wiggling, trying to escape his mother's grip.

"Go into the house," she ordered, giving him a light slap on the seat of his pants to move him along.

Emily's chin wobbled as she fought to control her emotions. "He's a good man! My Roger is a good man, a good husband. He's just…things have been…"

"He's frustrated."

She reached out and clutched at his hand. "Please don't arrest him. We just argued. Please."

Covering her hand with his own, Tony looked in her eyes. "Emily, did he ever hit you? Did he ever raise his hand to you or Rory?"

"No! No, never. Roger would never hurt us."

"Okay. That's good. What about the breaking glass?" At her blank look, he explained that the report mentioned breaking glass.

"Oh, I don't know. We didn't break anything."

"I'm not making any promises, but I'll talk to him. Why don't you fix us something cold to drink, Mrs. Dawson?"

She gave a forced smile and a tense nod of consent. She scurried into the house, flashing her husband an encouraging smile as she passed him by, not trying to avoid him.

Tony walked up the steps, nodding at Bubba. "Mr. Dawson, I'm the new Sheriff. Tony DiNozzo. Mind if I sit next to you?"

Roger nodded dubiously.

"Thanks." He dropped down beside Roger on the bench, looking up at the deputy. "Mrs. Dawson is making us drinks, Bubba. Why don't you go see if she needs any help?"

His dark eyebrows slanted in a frown, Bubba hesitated. A nod had the deputy obeying.

"Mr. Dawson, can I call you Roger? You can call me Tony. This job's too new for me to be used to 'Sheriff DiNozzo'."

"Sure. Roger is…fine."

When Roger finally looked up, Tony could see that Emily wasn't the only one who had been crying. "Your wife says you're a good man. That you would never hurt her or your son."

"I wouldn't!"

"Except that you already have."

"What? I haven't, I wouldn't!"

"You don't think the screaming matches aren't hurting them? Trust me, it hurts Rory. It scares him and I guarantee you that, if he isn't already, he'll be thinking if he was only better, quieter, smarter, you and his mom wouldn't be fighting."

"It isn't his fault. Shit." Roger took a closer look at Tony. "You're speaking from experience."

Tony's faint smile held a touch of sadness. "Slightly different situation. Their arguments were fueled by alcohol and unhappiness, not frustration."

"I don't drink. I didn't want to use alcohol as a crutch."

"Good to hear. But this crap has to stop, Roger."

Emily came out, pushing the screen door open with her hip, her hands holding a tray with a pitcher of freshly made iced tea, glasses, and a small sugar bowl. Behind her was Bubba Wright, toting a white table and two folding chairs. Once he placed them where Emily directed, they sat. She poured them all a glass of tea. Tony and Roger adding sugar to theirs. It gave everyone a moment to relax.

"Roger, will you be applying at the lumberyard?" Tony asked.

"I already have, but the training won't be for two more weeks. And unpaid."

Pretending he didn't already know the answer, Tony said. "At least you'll get unemployment."

Roger's face darkened while Emily bit her lower lip. "Welfare," he muttered.

"Well, yeah, there's welfare, but unemployment is easier to get, especially short term. And, after all, it is kinda your money." Seeing the puzzled look on Roger's face, Tony sipped his tea. He had the man's attention. "It's paid in by your employer. If it wasn't required to be paid into the government, it would probably be part of your salary. So, your money."

"Never thought of it that way before."

Finishing the tea with a sound of satisfaction, Tony got to his feet. "Thank you, ma'am, that's was refreshing. Especially in this heat. Roger, I don't want any of my deputies called out here again. If you need someone to talk to, call me. If I'm not at the station, they'll know where to find me. I believe you _are_ a good man, a good husband, a good father. But you can't just be good when things are running smoothly. The true test is how you handle the bad times."

"Thank you, Sheriff…Tony. I won't let you or my family down. I promise." Roger Dawson also got to his feet, putting his arm around his wife's shoulder.

"C'mon, Bubba, places to go, things to see."

As they walked to the car, Tony could feel the deputy staring at him. Once inside the vehicle, Tony took pity on him. "What? Something you want to say?"

"You're not what I expected."

"Happy or Spanish Inquisition."

"Not Monty Python, more pretty decent guy. You could've arrested Roger or gone out of your way to belittle him. Instead you, well, you helped him get a new viewpoint."

"I didn't want to make things harder for him or his family." Tony's eyes darkened dangerously as he continued. "If Dawson had laid one finger on either Emily or Rory, he'd be in handcuffs and stuffed in the back of this car."

"I'd've slapped the cuffs on myself."

"Glad to hear that."

They continued the tour of the patrol area, Bubba pointing out areas of interest, relating bits of history, and giving the lowdown on the trouble spots.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Tony turned halfway to face Bubba. "You can refuse to answer. No harm, no foul."

"Sure."

"I've heard that you and Gantry hung out off-duty."

"I wouldn't call it handing out. But that isn't a question."

"Okay, to be precise, you've gone fishing, played poker with him."

"That's accurate. Still not a question."

"Are you guys friends? Will that cause a problem between us? There, two questions."

"I'm sure you've heard the phrase 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?"

"Oh, yeah. So you were keeping Gantry closer?"

Bubba's mouth pulled into a sour grin. "Ed Gantry was an idiot. A very vindictive idiot tightly under the control of Chuck Winslow. I was determined to keep the department as clean as I could. The best way to do that was to be Ed's buddy."

"I get that."

Taking a deep breath, the deputy shrugged. "Did you know that I was a MP while I was in the Army?"

"Honestly, no, I didn't. The personnel files are a mess, haven't found everyone's yet."

"I was a sergeant. Being a MP got me interested in police work. After I was divorced, I decided to get out of the service and try my hand at being a cop. Found out that I liked it, especially in a small town." He grinned. "Never wanted to be a big city fed."

"It had its moments, but I think I prefer life in the slower lane. Maybe I'm getting old."

"I doubt that. Once Ed got caught, I was relieved. The council finally had an excuse to fire him. I know he's been untouchable for too long, but between the loosening of Winslow's grip on this town and Ed being caught beating that poor kid, they knew it was something they could do without retaliation."

"Didn't you want the sheriff job?"

"No way. I like doing exactly what I'm doing now. You can deal with the headaches and the politics and the fine citizens of this county who think they rule the roost."

"Funny man. You just wait, Bubba. I might be called back to D.C. for testimony and you'll be the one in charge while I'm gone." Tony laughed at the look on his deputy's face.

PTO ~ Patrol Training Officer

Staties ~ State Police (Originally State Troopers in New England, but I've seen it spreading throughout the country with the meaning changing from Troopers to whatever State Police might be in the area.)


	2. Tanisha Washington

_Before we start the next chapter, thank you to everyone who posted reviews, kudos, follows, and favorites. Not only to this story, but all my others. There are some anonymous and a few who don't accept replies, so I just wanted you to know that I appreciate the reviews nonetheless. Now on to our regularly scheduled programming._

Chapter 2: Tanisha Washington

Tony was feeling better now that the office files were organized and actually filed. Some information was missing from the personnel folders, but nothing major. All the FBI background checks had been found, tossed into the bottom of a box in the trunk of the designated sheriff's car.

He currently was reviewing the resume of Corporal Tanisha Washington. After speaking to her immediate supervisor at the Pennsylvania State Police, he had called Tanisha to set up a face-to-face interview.

From childhood, Tony had learned how to read people, using body language to keep himself safe from his father's drunken rages. It was a talent that stood him equally well as both an athlete and as a law enforcement officer. Or, he smiled to himself, dealing with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

More experienced people were needed as deputies. Even with Lauraine LaFont released from clerical duties and his intention to start patrolling as well would leave them shorthanded. Luckily the city council had approved hiring two more people. It would be a start.

The new sheriff was also considering an idea that was used in other locales that might not have the budget for the manpower needed, but it needed some more research and fine-tuning before he could place it before the mayor.

"Sheriff DiNozzo, your appointment is here."

"Thank you, Effie Mae." Despite his best efforts, he couldn't seem to convince the elderly woman to call him Tony. "Please send Corporal Washington in."

Tony blinked as a tall Amazon walked into his office. He estimated her height as 6 foot in bare feet, almost two inches more in her official boots. That put her equal to him in height. She had removed the Smoky Bear hat, holding it under her arm, revealing a close cut afro of reddish brown hair.

"Corporal Washington, thank you for coming all this way to meet with me in person."

Shaking Tony's offered hand, she nodded before flashing a grin. "Gives me an excuse to see my fiancé. Sorry about the uniform, but I came straight from work. Didn't have time to change to civvies before our appointment."

"Not a problem." Tony admired how Tanisha's mahogany skin was glowing with health and youth, not dimmed by the grey of the uniform. She was a striking figure. He had no problems believing she could also take care of herself, an important consideration for a single person patrol. "Have a seat."

Once she was settled, the hat placed on the other seat next to her. "What would you like to know, Sheriff?"

"According to Deputy LaFont, you would like to move permanently to Stillwater, correct?"

"Yes, sir. I hate long distance relationships. Greg and I have been trying to find a way to move closer to each other. He has a great job at the lumberyard and should be promoted to manager before much longer, so he doesn't want to move. I like the area here. I'm an outdoors person. Love to fish and boat. Stillwater has a lot of places to do that. So when Lauraine called to let me know that you were hiring…well, I just had to take a chance."

"I know you're probably already aware of the job, but let me outline it anyway, just so we're on the same page."

"Yes, sir."

If he did hire her, Tony would have to break her of calling him sir, but it was too soon to deal with that. "We normally have only two deputies patrolling at a time. Once I have two more new hires, a schedule will be set up that allows reasonable work versus non-work time will be implemented. I will be part of that schedule, as much as I can be. I'm working on some other ideas, but that is a start. As I'm certain you're also aware, your budget has been cut back seriously enough that the local State Police barracks is understaffed. That means we help out there as well."

"So, counting you, there will be eight total to keep Stillwater covered."

"For the time being, yes. Your turn. Any questions?"

Tanisha's expression stilled, growing serious. "Can I be direct?"

"Please."

"The reputation of the previous sheriff was known even in my part of the state. Lauraine didn't go into too much details herself, but people talk."

"Indeed they do. And scuttlebutt travels at light speed."

"I talked with a few people who mentioned undue influence by a citizen of this town. That concerns me."

"It should," Tony observed. "You're referring to Chuck Winslow?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't have to worry about that. Even if Winslow's powerbase was still intact, he wouldn't be having any influence or power over me. That is a promise."

Tanisha nodded slowly. "I also asked around about you."

A mercurial smile broke out on Tony's face. "Do tell."

"A friend of mine went to work for the FBI. She put me in touch with an agent in D.C. who stated he knew you."

"Oh? His name wasn't Ron Sacks, was it?"

"No, Tobias Fornell. He said you were a pain in his ass. Almost as big a one as your former boss. But that you were also one of the best special agents he had ever worked with. Ah, he said to give you a message."

Tony huffed out a laugh. "Give it to me. I'm ready."

Tanisha pulled a paper out of her breast pocket. "I wrote it down so I wouldn't mess it up." She coughed slightly to clear her throat. "Tell, I think he called you DiNutso?"

"Italian pronunciation of DiNozzo."

"Okay, got it. 'Tell DiNutso that if he finally came to his senses about working with Gibbs, he should've come to the Darkside with me, not bury himself in some Podunk town as a sheriff. Especially not that particular town. Tell the kid to call me.' That's all."

Laughing still, Tony made a mental note to contact the FBI agent.

"I asked him what he meant by 'that particular town'. Agent Fornell said you'd explain, but not to worry. That with you in charge, the law would be honestly and fairly upheld."

"Aw, Toby, I'm touched."

Tanisha sat back, confused. "I'm lost."

"Gibbs was my immediate boss at NCIS. He and Fornell had this really strange relationship, but under it all they are good friends. He's referring to the fact that Stillwater is Gibbs' hometown. His dad still lives here. In fact, Gibbs is expecting to retire here."

"Ah. So if you were really fleeing this Gibbs, Stillwater would be the last place you would've moved."

"Yep."

Tanisha asked some more questions, this time focusing on salary and benefits. It wasn't very long before all her concerns were addressed and dealt with.

"So, Corporal…"

"Please, sir, call me Tanisha."

"Only if you'll call me Tony. What do you think? Are you interested in turning in your grey uniform for a brown one?"

"You…" She was startled. "You're offering me the job? Now?"

"I am. What's your answer? Or do you need time to think about it?" 

"No! No, sir, I don't need any time. Yes, I'd love to join your department."

"How quickly can you get here?"

A frown wrinkled her forehead. "Two weeks at the most. My lieutenant knows that I'm here for a job interview. I might be able to give just a one-week notice, instead of two. We'll have to talk. I'll be moving in with Greg. I won't need a place of my own. I live in a furnished studio apartment, so other than packing some personal items and my clothes, no major moving has to be done. I'll leave it with two weeks right now, sir."

"Okay, that sounds good. Depending on how things go, I'll have you ride with at least one of our deputies to get a feel for the area as well as what we do jobwise. Probably for a week since you're already an experienced LEO." Tony handed a folder to her. "I'll need you to fill out all the paperwork within. Drop it off when you're next in town. As soon as you have an accurate start date, let me know. The address to get your uniform and equipment is also in there, so make certain you go there within three days. It takes a week to get the uniform. They'll be expecting you."

"And the Sheriff's Department covers all the costs?"

He nodded. "For everything on the attached list, yes. Anything extra is on you."

Standing up, he smiled. "Welcome to the Stillwater Sheriff's Department, Tanisha. Now go see that fiancé of yours."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!" She retrieved her hat as she stood.

Tony watched the excited young woman walk briskly out of the stationhouse, barely containing an urge to run.

Effie Mae Venable brought Tony a mug of hot tea. She didn't believe in coffee in the late afternoon.

Tony took a sip, pleased that she had added the right amount of sugar. When she stayed by his side, he peered down at her. Every time he did so, he had to swallow his grin at her blue pixie cut. Not blue-tinged white or silver hair. Nope, bright Superman blue. According to Jackson Gibbs, Effie Mae was a fan of unusual colors for her hair.

"Problem, Effie Mae?"

"She's black," she pronounced.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"We have a very small African American population, but there has never been any on either the Sheriff's Department nor the local government since World War II. Well done, Anthony." She proceeded back to her desk near the front door, ignoring the pleased smile on Tony's shocked face.

She finally called him by his first name. Well, Tony thought, how about that?

LEO ~ Law Enforcement Officer


	3. Chris Townsend

Chapter 3: Chris Townsend

Deputy Christopher Townsend couldn't be happier at the idea of more deputies and less work hours. He might even get a couple of days off in a row to go surfing on the East Coast. He loved Stillwater, but he craved the joy of riding the waves again. It had been too long.

The new sheriff seemed to be following through on his promises. An unusual thing in his experiences with Ed Gantry. Although he didn't have much interaction with Gantry, he didn't like what he did see from the man.

"Chris, I heard you're having your turn with the new Sheriff today?" Deputy Manny Alvarez was going off duty, but wanted to warn Chris that he needed to get gas before the station closed. The station owner was heading to his daughter's wedding in Pittsburgh and the station wouldn't be opened until tomorrow evening.

"Yeah. Bubba seems to like him."

"Really? He wasn't that thrilled when he first heard about it."

"I know, but he said he got a better understanding of DiNozzo, the kind of man he is." Chris grinned, brushing his blond hair back off his face. He really needed a haircut, but didn't have the time. "I guess we'll all make our own judgment when we do our ride-alongs."

"What do you think of the new girl?"

"Manny, _girl_?"

"I'm not knocking her. But she's definitely young," Manny commented.

"Washington's older than I am." At Manny's obvious disbelief, he explained. "Effie Mae told me she's 29. I'm only 26, so I'm still the baby of the department. She's definitely hot. Too bad she's engaged to Lauraine's brother."

He managed to get Manny to laugh, his goal.

"Chris, she wouldn't look at you twice. You're not just the baby of the station due to your age, but that baby face of yours make you look 16."

"Hey, 18 maybe! Not 16! Sheez." Chris' baby looks had always been a problem for him, even when he was teaching surfing in North Carolina. He had to be careful to bring his ID whenever going to the local bars for a beer. He was always carded.

"Have a good shift."

Chris saw Sheriff DiNozzo talking to Bubba, making the other deputy laugh. With a slap on the back, the Sheriff moved to where Chris was standing.

"Deputy Townsend. Is it Christopher or Chris?"

"Uh, Chris, sir."

"Please, call me Tony, if you will." The Sheriff grinned. "As you can see, I won't be embarrassing you with my civvies. My uniform finally came. Brown's not my color, but I don't think I look too bad. Been a long time since I wore a uniform."

"Looks good." Chris admitted to himself that, for an older guy, Sheriff DiNozzo was in pretty decent shape. "You work out, Sher-, Tony?"

"I mostly run, although it's been a while since I've been able to do it regularly. I'm definitely starting back up again."

"We've got some spectacular running and hiking trails around here. If you're interested, I'll point them out as we patrol."

"I'm interested."

Chris covered the other half of the general Stillwater area, sometimes overlapping with Bubba Wright. He and Tony discussed running marathons, a form of running that the deputy regularly participated in as a substitute for his surfing.

"I've never done it. Our schedules at NCIS weren't regular enough to give me time to train, much less show up on event day."

"What do you run, mileage-wise?"

"I usually try to run five to seven miles. I've done as much as ten, but not often."

"You should sign up for some of the smaller runs in this area. Allentown has some great ones, usually once a month."

Tony nodded. "Sounds good. I'll need a couple of weeks to get back in the groove, especially where the land isn't flat. Find me an event and I'll sign up. Might be fun."

A car went shooting past them as if they were sitting still. When Chris just sighed, Tony slapped the dashboard.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get 'em!"

With a surprised, yet pleased grin, Chris hit the gas, flipping his lights and siren on as he followed after the car. "Sheriff Gantry wouldn't let us give them a ticket, so we just stopped trying."

"You know the driver?" Tony braced himself as they reached a straight stretch of road.

"The Trulane brothers, Donnie and Matt. Good guys, but they love to speed."

Finally catching up to the mottled green and brown Dodge Charger, Chris could see the passenger look back over his shoulder. A few moments later, the car began to slow, the driver steering it to the side of the road.

"They also run moonshine for old man Cooper," Chris added.

Both men got out of the patrol car, the deputy heading to the driver's side while the Sheriff moved slowly to the passenger side.

"Donnie, turn your engine off."

"Chris? What the hell's goin' on?"

With a blinding grin, Chris pulled his ticket book out. "I need your license, registration, and proof of insurance. You were speeding, so I'm gonna write you a ticket."

"Gantry won't like that when he gets back," Donnie protested.

"About that," Tony said quietly. "Ed Gantry won't be coming back, even if he wiggles out of the charges he's facing. We haven't met before. I'm Tony DiNozzo. The new sheriff. I don't care what kind of arrangement you had with Gantry in the past, I'm not putting up with it. You break the law and get caught, you face the consequences. Whether it's speeding or transporting illegal liquor."

Matt dug the required documents out of the glove box, silently handing them to his brother.

By the time Chris checked with the county dispatcher for any possible warrants, wrote out the ticket, listened to Donnie's muttered arguments, and convinced him to sign the ticket, he realized that Matt and the Sheriff were standing at the front of the Charger. The engine hood was up, both men leaning in under it, inspecting the enhancements the brothers had installed to soup the engine up. Although not a car guy himself, Chris recognized that Tony seemed to know enough to get the usually taciturn Matt engaged in, for him, an enthusiastic conversation.

Chris blinked, surprised.

Donnie, still grumbling, seemed to realize that his brother was talking to the Sheriff. Looking at Matt, then the Sheriff, finally at Chris, his grumble died away. "He's really the new sheriff? Not just a fill-in?"

"Yep. Guess you better get used to being pulled over. I think he means it about following the law."

"Huh."

Matt slammed the hood down, wiping his hands off with a red rag he had stuffed in his pants pocket. He offered it to Tony, who gladly accepted it and doing the same. Once they were both satisfied that their hands were relatively clean, Matt shook the Sheriff's hand. "You wanna look at that Mustang, give me a call. She just needs some TLC."

"Expect to hear from me in a couple of days. No way that I'm passing up a chance to get a 1963 ½ Mustang. I thought the only prototype left was in the museum, that all the others had been crushed."

"Knew a guy who worked with Iacocca on it."

"If you're done yakkin', Matt."

Matt gave his brother a nod, climbing into the Charger. Donnie drove off, a lot slower than he normally would.

"Wow," Chris said, staring at Tony.

"What?" Tony looked at his shirt for oil stains, finding none.

"Matt doesn't talk. Hardly ever. And especially to cops."

Flashing a mischievous grin, Tony explained, "Let's just say that I have a knack communicating with functional mutes."


	4. Manny Alvarez

Chapter 4: Manny Alvarez

Tony was pounding the pavement, appalled how quickly his legs and lungs were screaming in protest. Refusing to give in, he pushed on through the pain. If he was feeling the burn so quickly on flat land, it was a good decision skipping the elevated trails until he got back into shape.

The slap of his shoes began to sound in unison with the thump of his heart as he reached the far end of town. Late in the evening, Tony's path was lit by the soft yellow glow of the wrought-iron street lights. Stillwater rolled up the streets as the sun set, the entire downtown businesses locked light by 7 p.m., at the latest. The pharmacy and Jack's General Store were the last to close.

As Tony prepared to turn, heading back home for a hot shower, his cell phone trilled. Slowing to a walk, he answered the call. "DiNozzo."

"Sheriff, we have a missing adolescent. Possible runaway."

Recognizing the gravelly voice, Tony asked for more information. "Who is it, Manny?"

"Chris Kingston, Chuck Winslow's grandson. I don't think he's in danger. We're at his mother's house. I've sent the address and directions to your phone."

"Good. I've been running, so I'm a little ripe. Let me clean up. I'll be there, fifteen minutes tops. You've called the others?"

"They're on the way." There was a pause. "Emily, his mom, isn't too worried, but she still thought it was better to err on the side of caution and call us in. Chuck is on the rampage. He's furious that we're involved."

"Appreciate the heads up." Tony cut the call, laughing when he realized he didn't say goodbye. Some of Gibbs' bad habits seemed to have stuck to him.

Kicking into high gear, Tony ran for home. Blasting through his front door, he dove into the shower, happy that his fancy new water heater worked so quickly. Staying under the spray just long enough to rinse the sweat away, it wasn't long before his body was dry and in his uniform.

Emily Winslow Kingston had moved herself and her son out of Chuck Winslow's house less than a week after her husband's arrest for murder. After years under her father's control, Emily had finally found her own strength.

According to Effie Mae Venable, the fount of all knowledge of the town's inhabitants, Emily threatened to leave, not only Stillwater, but the state, if her overbearing father didn't back off. He did, but reluctantly.

Christopher Kingston was now thirteen years old and rebellious. His antics were egged on by his grandfather who, again according to Effie Mae, didn't want the boy to be a sissy, a mama's boy. Old-fashioned slurs, but considering what Tony had heard about Winslow and his faithful sidekick, Ed Gantry, when they were young, not surprising. Chuck Winslow, a bully his whole life, considered anyone different as threatening.

Tony had found incident reports, buried by Gantry, showing some relatively minor acts, from vandalism to petty shoplifting, that didn't make it past the report stage. Between Chuck paying damages and Ed refusing to pursue help for the boy, or even hold him responsible for his actions, it wouldn't surprise Tony if the boy's acting out escalated.

Arriving at Emily Kingston's modest bungalow, Tony saw the front yard was filled with deputies. He was met on the front porch by Deputy Manny Alvarez. The stocky deputy rubbed at his white-flecked beard.

"The kid back yet?" Tony asked.

"No. He was supposed to come straight home from school. The bus came, driver told the mother that Chris got off at a friend's stop. She called the friend's mom, who dragged her son to the phone. After some hemming and hawing, it came out that Chris took their ATV and headed up to Harvey's Lake."

"Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs has a cabin in that area." Tony frowned. "Does Chris have friends up there?"

"Not according to his mother," Manny replied.

"Okay." Tony whistled loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Bubba, you and Lauraine go to the friend's house, see what else you can find out. Chris, stay here with Mrs. Kingston in case her son returns home. Call me if he does. Robbie, get a list of his other close friends. Split the list with Bubba and Lauraine. See if they know anything that might be helpful. Manny, you and I will head up to Harvey's Lake. Let's go."

He watched with a smile as his people, his team, responded by heading to their cars or, in the case of Chris and Robbie, back to the house.

"DiNozzo!" A voice barked from the porch.

A quick grimace passed across Tony's face before he turned to face Chuck Winslow, no sign of his annoyance showing. "Mr. Winslow?"

"Is all this necessary? My grandson is merely having some fun. A little harmless teenage rebellion."

"Probably. But he's heading to an area that apparently he's not familiar with in the dark. Anything could happen. It's our job to try to prevent that. With luck, we find him unharmed, bring him home with a flea in his ear about scaring his mom."

Tony could see Winslow drawing himself up in preparation to blast this outsider, this man who must remind him of Gibbs, for even considering telling his grandson off for actions that Winslow thought acceptable.

"Thank you, Sheriff DiNozzo. That would be most helpful," Emily Kingston said, coming up behind her father, a weary smile on her face. "I'm only his mother, so what I say doesn't go very far lately. I can't thank all of you enough for coming so quickly after I called."

"That's their job," Winslow said dismissively.

"Dad!"

"Mr. Winslow is correct. That is our job." With a nod, Tony turned on his heel, heading to the car where Manny waited.

"Take one vehicle? One of us can drive the ATV back," Manny suggested.

"As long as you take the ATV. You know the area better. I'd probably get lost if I went cross-country. Or get attacked by a rabid chipmunk."

On the way to Harvey's Lake, Tony received a call from Bubba. "What did you find out?"

"The Kingston kid wants to trash your former boss' cabin."

"Why?"

"He blames Gibbs for his father's incarceration."

"That was years ago, so maybe my question should be, why now?" Tony wondered.

"He overheard Jackson Gibbs talking about his son moving here once he retired. From what Lauraine got out of his friend, he mentioned it to his grandfather and the old man went ballistic."

"Great. Okay, appreciate the update. Just in case, get with Robbie on the friends list. I'll call if we find the kid."

"Got it."

After hanging up, Tony turned to Manny. "You heard?"

"Boy's got some serious anger. Might make him dangerous," Manny observed.

"Maybe. But I still don't want to go in hot and heavy. That could turn a bad situation uch worse."

Manny slowed the car as the road became a rough trail. They bumped along, the headlights causing horror movie type shadows. Both men had their windows wide open, the sounds of nightlife filling the car.

"Stop." Tony put his hand on Manny's arm.

Manny stopped, looking at Tony, waiting for an explanation.

Tapping his ear, Tony grinned. "Superior hearing. Listen."

"I don't…" His head cocked, the deputy began to slowly nod. "An engine. Not moving."

"How close are we to Gibbs' cabin?"

"As the crow flies, easy walking distance. The trail wraps around, so about half a mile."

"There's a decent moon out. Do you think you can drive up without lights?"

"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem."

"Good."

Headlights off, they crept slowly toward the cabin. As they moved closer, Tony could see that Chris was using the ATV's lights to let him do his damage to the cabin. The windows had been shattered. Currently the boy was spraying obscenities on the walls.

Growling in anger, Tony jumped out of the passenger side of the patrol car, quickly making his way to the cabin. "Christopher Kingston, drop that paint can!"

The boy jumped, spinning around, wild-eyed. He cocked his arm back, throwing the can straight at Tony.

Although he saw it at the last minute, Tony tried to turn his head away. Unfortunately, the can's speed was faster. Tony felt the bottom edge of the can clip him hard on his right cheekbone. The pain radiated from the contact point. "Shit!"

"Sheriff, you okay?" Manny called, striding to where Chris was standing in shock.

"Yeah, give me a minute. Son of a bitch, this hurts."

"I…I…I didn't mean…" Chris shivered as Manny manhandled him to the patrol car.

"I know, Chris. Hell of an arm on you." Tony was taking in deep breaths in an effort to ride the pain out.

"Chris, you're going in the back of the car."

"Am I under arrest?"

"That'll be up to the sheriff and the owner of this property." Seeing the anger fighting to break through the fear, Manny frowned. "You're blaming the wrong person for your dad being in prison."

Chris huffed.

Tony had walked to the car, appearing behind them. "Chris, do you know why your father is in prison?"

"He killed some guy bugging my mom."

Tony exchanged a pained look with Manny. "Have you asked your mom about it?"

Chris pulled his sleeve under his nose, sniffing back tears. "She kept telling me I was too young, so I finally quit asking. Grandpa told me a little."

Manny pulled a military-style flashlight from his belt, turning it on while reaching for Tony's chin.

Tony reared back. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if anything is broken." Ignoring Tony's efforts to get away, Manny carefully checked the injury. "That is gonna be a nasty bruise by time the morning."

"Stop poking at it!" Tony pulled away. "It isn't broken. Trust me, I'd know."

"How's the pain?"

"Still hurts like hell, but once we get back, I'll slap some frozen peas on it."

"Shouldn't you see a doctor?" Chris asked from the backseat.

"Glad to see someone has a lick of sense. The kid's right. You'll be seeing Doc Evans as soon as we get back to town."

"Aw, c'mon, Manny."

"I don't want to hear it. Park it in the passenger side. I'm driving both of you back."

"What about the ATV?" Tony asked.

"I'll drive it to the barn in the back. Someone can come tomorrow and pick it up. Sit!" Manny stalked off, climbing on the ATV seat and moving to the barn.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff."

"I know you are, Chris. I'll speak to your mom. I think it is past time for you to hear the truth. After she's done, if you need to talk to someone or have any questions, come see me." Tony met Chris' eyes in the rearview mirror. "I was there. I'll answer any of your questions that I can. Okay?"

"Yeah."


	5. Interim

Chapter 5: Interim

Tony frowned at the doctor probing around his cheek bone and eye socket. "Do you really have to do that? You took x-rays."

"Settle down, Sheriff. I had an interesting discussion with Doctor Mallard when I called him for your medical records. Fascinating man." Doctor Mark Evans tilted Tony's head back. "He warned me that you're a bit medically adverse."

Shrugging, Tony bit back a curse as Evans hit a particularly sore spot despite the local painkiller, all too aware of his audience. Deputy Alvarez was leaning against the far wall, next to the door. Standing next to him was a wide-eyed Christopher Kingston, his lower lip quivering.

While driving to the doctor's office, Manny had called Evans about Tony's injuries. He then called Emily Kingston to report that Chris had been found, safe and sound. He explained the boy's actions and, at Tony' insistence, requested keeping Chris with them a while longer. After assuring her that her son wasn't currently under arrest, she agreed.

Meanwhile, Tony passed along the message to call off the search to the other deputies. "Lauraine, can you let the ATV owner know that the vehicle is safely under cover? We'll be glad to drive it back to them tomorrow once it's light."

"Be glad to, Sheriff," Deputy LaFont replied.

Mark Evans wasn't the old country doctor Tony had been expecting. He was relatively young, late 30s to early 40s, with a shock of bright red hair and an enormous amount of freckles on every inch of bared skin.

"So, what's the verdict?" Tony asked, impatient with the examination.

"Sheriff, you're worse than my kids," Manny observed with a laugh.

"You have a hairline fracture here." Evans gently touched the bone just below his eye. "It's called a direct orbital floor fracture."

A strangled gasp came from Chris. A quick glance showed Tony that Manny had his hand gripping the boy's shoulder in support.

"If you can avoid any punches to the face, at least for a few weeks, it should heal without too much difficulty. I'd advise avoiding blowing your nose. Use an ice pack. You're gonna have one hell of a shiner by tomorrow. That eye will probably ache almost as badly as the surrounding area."

"Not my first black eye, Doc."

Evans laughed. "I heard. You know the drill. If you have any issues with your eyesight, numbness anywhere on your face. I'll want you back in here next week. Once the swelling goes down, I'll be able to see if surgery will be needed."

"Surgery?"

"I don't think it will be necessary, but I'll still want to verify that. Give my office a call tomorrow, we'll find a good time for you to come back. If you do have any problems with your eyesight, I'll set up a referral to an opthamologist."

Manny stepped closer. "Will he have to get pain pills?"

"I'm not taking…"

"Don't worry, Sheriff DiNozzo, Ducky already informed me of your intolerance of most narcotics. I'll give you two relatively mild pain pills for tonight. Take one before you go to bed, keep the other just in case any OTC pills aren't enough."

Tony gave a half shrug and nod.

"I mean it, Sheriff. As you said, you've been through this, or something like this, before. You know that the throbbing is gonna keep you awake. Take the damn pill!" Evans handed him a small glassine envelope.

"Jeez, Finn, chill out! I'll take it. And you might as well call me Tony."

"Finn?" Manny asked.

"I imagine that is a reference to Huckleberry Finn," the doctor observed, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

Chris Kingston giggled, sounding more like the 12 year old he was rather than the surly teenager he portrayed.

Tony waved his hand at Evans, sweeping from head to toe. "Doubt that was the first time you've heard that."

"Usually it's Huck or Huckleberry. Not what a scrawny redheaded farmer's kid wants to be called. Finn, though. I would've liked that. A lot subtler."

Tony flashed a mischievous grin at Evans before sliding off the exam table. He tucked the envelope with the two pills in his shirt pocket. "Thanks for coming in. You really didn't need to. I could've waited."

"Not really a good idea if it had been serious. Besides, this kind of stuff is why I signed up to be what they used to call a General Practitioner."

Manny Alvarez added his thanks, ushering Chris out of the examination room ahead of the Sheriff.

Once outside in the sweet-smelling night air, Manny turned to face Tony. "You're going straight home," he stated. "Are we locking Chris up for the night?"

Chris' jaw dropped, a tiny squeak escaping.

Frowning, Tony caught the slight smile that flashed across his deputy's broad face. "Well, I don't know. If I'm home, there will be no one to keep an eye on him, take him on bathroom runs."

"We could turn him over to the county cops. The Gibbs cabin isn't really in the city limits."

"No, I don't think that would be fair to them." Tony looked at the boy, verifying that he realized just how much trouble he was in. "In the car, Chris."

Trembling, Chris quickly climbed into the backseat.

Tony slid into the front, twisting around to confront the boy. "I'm willing to release you into your mother's custody for tonight, but…" He held up his finger. "You will go to school tomorrow and come directly home. Once you've done your homework and eaten dinner with your mom, I'll be there to take you to the cabin to assess the damage. You will be repairing anything that you caused. In addition, for the next month, all your free time will belong to me. You'll be put to work, doing whatever I or Jethro Gibbs deem needed."

The returning mulish set of Chris' face had Tony continuing with an edge to his voice.

"You're not a little kid anymore! And I'm not former Sheriff Gantry. This is your first and last warning. Pull crap like this again and you'll face the legal consequences. No more free passes. Understand me?"

Chris nodded sullenly.

"Use your words. Do you understand that, from now on, your actions will have consequences?"

"Yeah, I understand."

"Manny, drive us to Chris' home."

"Sheriff, you really need to go home."

"I will, but I need to speak to Mrs. Kingston first. Plus, I have to pick up my car."

The silence in the car was heavy on all of them. Tony didn't speak again until they pulled up beside his car.

Tony took a deep breath, audibly blowing it out. "I already said that I will ask your mother to speak to you about your father. I meant that. If she's uncomfortable talking about it, I'll ask if I can explain what happened and answer any questions you might have."

"Really?"

"Really. But only if your mother agrees. Now she's waiting anxiously on the porch, so go let her see that you're in one piece."

"Sheriff, want me to stick around?" Manny asked, after Chris left the car.

"Nah, I'm good. I can drive home. Head on out. Hopefully the rest of your shift will be peaceful. Call me if you need me." Tony climbed out of the patrol car, watching as Emily Kingston clung to her son. He closed the passenger door, patting the roof of the squad car before he stepped away.

Manny drove slowly away to avoid kicking up any gravel.

Walking up to the house, Tony smiled reassuringly. "Mrs. Kingston, while Chris goes inside to grab a bite to eat, can we talk?"


	6. Antoine Bourgeois

Chapter 6: Antoine Bourgeois

Tony was on the phone when he felt someone watching him. Looking up, he spotted Effie Mae giving Jethro Gibbs the evil eye and an earful. He grinned, watching Gibbs trying to charm his way past her desk. Returning his attention to the call, he made some notes on his desk calendar.

"We'll be glad to help you, sir. If we keep it within your targeted area, I can set up checkpoints on 487. That way any cars that try to avoid your rolling dragnet on the Interstate will fall right into our hands. We'll need one of your drug-sniffing K9 officers, of course."

Gibbs, finally having finagled his way past the dragon, sat in the only visitor chair in the Sheriff's office.

"No, sir. We've had this discussion before. No probable cause means no search. I won't screw up a court case with an illegal search and seizure. Yes, sir. Same split as well? Very good. Goodbye, sir." Tony hung up, releasing a frustrated growl.

"State police?"

"State Attorney General. He's up for reelection, so he's been gung-ho on the highway drug seizures. He's more interested in news conferences showing the product piled up on a table for the cameras than getting convictions."

Gibbs nodded. "What kind of split were you talking about?"

"We get 25% of any money or property seized. Helps offset the overtime expenses, gives our budget some cushion."

"Wanna tell me why you're wearing sunglasses indoors, DiNozzo?"

"To look cool?"

A glare had Tony slowly pulling the dark-lenses glasses off, revealing a technicolor area around his eye.

"What the hell?!" Gibbs got to his feet, leaning over the desk to gently tip his former Senior Field Agent's head back to get a closer look.

"Scared the kid when we came up on him. He's got a hell of a throwing arm. I might work with him once this heals. He could try out for the community football team, it'll help keep him out of trouble."

"Chris Kingston did this?" Gibbs finally sat back down. "What did the doctor say? You did see one, right?"

"Yes, Jethro, I did."

Eyebrow raised, Gibbs stared at him.

"Honest, I did." He frowned, muttering, "Manny made me."

"Manny? That would be Deputy Alvarez?"

"Yeah. He kinda kidnapped me. He was driving, so I didn't have much choice."

"Whatever works." Gibbs tilted his head, waiting.

"Hairline fracture, should be fine. I'll see Doctor Evans in a few days to verify that, but I can tell. It doesn't hurt as much. Although the office lights still bother me."

Accepting that, Gibbs changed the subject. "How bad is the cabin?"

"Better than we could've expected. One broken window. I boarded it up until it can be repaired tomorrow. The worst part was the paint. We got there before he had a chance to do more than one outside wall, but…it's still a mess, Jethro."

"I'll head up there and see. Might be able to just sand it off."

"I was hoping you could take Chris up there, put him to work. I've had him sweep the glass up and help me put the boards up over the window."

"He at school?"

"No, it's a half-day, so I turned him over to your dad to help out at the store until I'm done here. I'm determined to keep him busy."

"Got time for lunch?" Gibbs asked.

Tony looked at his watch in shock. "Is it that late already? Yeah, that'd be great. I have cold cuts and some great cheeses. We can make sandwiches, heat up the vegetable soup that Mrs. Pringle dropped off. I've even got some of that Kona dark roast that you like so much."

"Well, what you waiting for, DiNozzo?"

"On your six, boss!" Tony responded with a grin.

Tony grabbed his jacket. The autumn air had a bit of impending winter. Although D.C. would get snow, coastal winters were mild compared to what he had experienced in Peoria and Philadelphia. Now with scarred lungs, he was determined to be extra careful to avoid exposure to the cold.

Once they entered the house, he shed his coat, hanging it on the set of dowels next to the front door. Gibbs put his own light jacket next to it, before following Tony into the kitchen. The younger man quickly ground the correct amount of coffee beans while Gibbs pulled out mugs, bowls and plates for their lunch. It wasn't long before they were seated at the small table, honey ham and swiss hoagies accompanied by hot soup and hotter coffee ready to fill their stomachs.

"You still hiring?" Gibbs asked, a contented smile on his face at his first sip of coffee.

"Yeah, you looking for a job?"

"Not hardly. Although you know that you can always call me if you need backup."

"Thanks, Jethro. That's good to know." Tony took a big bite of sandwich before continuing. "I'm still looking for one more full-timer. I'm even considering getting someone part-time now that we're doing more and more highway dragnets. I've got a request into the board about that. Should hear something by Monday."

"Think they'll approve it?"

"I think so. We aren't spread as thin as we were. Plus, the additional monies from the seizures have been a godsend since the mine closed."

They quietly finished their lunch, Tony getting to his feet to clean up his part of the table. He reached into a drawer at the end of the counter, pulling out a key, dropping it next to Gibbs' mug. "Stay and finish your coffee. I'm heading back to the office."

"Want me to drop the key off when I'm done?" Gibbs held the key up, the light catching it.

"Nope. Keep it in case you're ever in town and need a refill." He smiled at his former boss. "You and Jack both have copies. Just in case. This may be a small town, but things can still happen. I'd feel better if the both of you could get in here."

Gibbs closed his fingers over the key, the metal cutting into his hand.

"Let me know if you take Chris up to the cabin before I get off work."

A nod was his only answer.

Tony no sooner stepped back into the police station than his cell phone rang. "DiNozzo."

"Tony, this is Bernard Bourgeois. I don't know if you remember me…"

"Bernard! Of course, I do. How are you and your lovely wife, Sabine?"

"Good, good. I'm still with Peoria, although I'm a captain now."

Tony grinned. "I didn't think you would ever give up the streets."

"I wouldn't have, but my knees, they ain't so good any more. So now I have less walking, more driving and sittin'. I heard you're lookin' for an experienced police officer for your department." The Cajun lilt flowed over the phone.

"I am. Do you know someone willing to move to Stillwater? We're a small department, so no real chance of promotion, just to be clear."

"My brother's boy, Antoine. He's a good boy, but the department he works at, they been havin' some problems. He don't like what he's been seein'."

"Bernard, you know I've gotta ask you this. Is he clean?"

"Oh, yah. He reminds me of you. Eager, but has that line he won't cross. I'm worried about him. We don't have any openings here in Peoria. When I heard 'bout you lookin' for people, well, it seemed heaven sent."

"I'll talk to him, Bernard. You can give him my number. I'll need to check this situation out. If Antoine comes back as clean as you say, I'll invite him for a face-to-face meeting. No promises."

"You're a good man, Tony, always were. I'd feel better with Antoine working for you."

"Give me everything that you know about his department. Who the players are, what they're into, how deep is it? If I can find the right string to pull, I might pass it along to a friendly fed. Without dragging you or your nephew into it." Tony quickly scribbled every bit of information and rumor that Bernard could provide.

A few hours went by before Gibbs walked back into the station. By then Tony had received a strange phone call from Antoine denying any interest in leaving his department. When Tony tried to find out whether there was a problem, it was vehemently denied. Too vehemently. That triggered a need to find out exactly what was going on, so instead of heading up to the Gibbs' cabin as originally planned, the Sheriff was deep into internet searches and discreet phone calls.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony blinked, trying to refocus his eyes on something other than the computer screen. "Jethro? Sorry, I was concentrating too hard on this." He pushed back from his desk, smiling at his former boss. "How did things go?"

"Not bad. Chris apologized. I think he meant it. He'll be helping me sand the paint out. It should take about a week or so. I was already planning to move into the cabin before winter."

"What about tonight? The window won't be put in until tomorrow."

"Already done. Picked it up right after leaving here."

"Oh, well, okay then." Tony rubbed his eyes.

"What's got you so focused?"

"I got a call from an old acquaintance in Peoria after I got back from lunch. He wanted me to hire his nephew, Antoine Bourgeois, claimed something shady was going on with the police department the kid was working for. I told him to have Antoine call me, that I'd snoop around a little bit and see what was going on. Less than an hour later, I received a call from Antoine, denying everything his uncle hinted at."

"So maybe the uncle misunderstood."

"I don't think so. There was something off about the call."

Gibbs considered that. "Scared?"

"Arrogant. Worried about what his uncle told me, but not overly so. I have a feeling that Bernard never mentioned that I was anything other than some small-town sheriff."

"You think Antoine is involved in whatever is going on?"

"Yeah, I do. It is another small police department, not as small as Stillwater. They have about 25 officers or so. And I think there may be as many as ten who are actively involved in their own crimes."

"What kinds?"

"Protection rackets, drug dealing, blackmail. Maybe more."

"What will you do?" Gibbs reached over to get Tony's notepad, easily deciphering the chicken scratches.

"I think I'll call Fornell. Some of it falls under the FBI's purview. Anything that doesn't, he'll know who to call."

"You've got some detailed information here. In just a few hours?"

Tony grinned. "I know people who know people. Nothing new there, even if some people at NCIS didn't understand it."

"Get your calls done. Then I'll take you out to dinner."


	7. Lauraine LaFont

Chapter 7: Lauraine LaFont

Windows wide open to let the cool autumn air into his house, Tony was playing on his latest piece of music. Although many of his friends over the years were aware that he played both the piano and guitar, very few knew that he also wrote music, melody and lyrics.

Music had been something else he shared with his mother, in addition to a love of films. After she had died, his father had not been supportive of continuing his interest in music. Music didn't make money or connections in the business world. Therefore, it was a waste of time and money.

Once Senior had shipped him off to the first of many boarding schools until he settled in at RIMA, the piano that his mother so loved was sold, along with most everything else belonging to her or Tony. Tony's only access to a piano after that would be if there was a music program at his current school. Finally, one of his roommates suggested taking up a more portable musical instrument. After some research, Tony bought a used acoustic guitar. With the help of the same roommate, he quickly learned to play almost as well as he did the piano. After that, whenever he moved, whether to different schools or to different police departments, the guitar was always with him.

Tony didn't buy his own piano until he found an apartment with room enough for his beloved instrument. And what he thought was his final move until retirement. Yet even NCIS proved fleeting as a permanent home, although he lasted longer there than even he could've expected at the beginning. Instead his piano had found a home in Stillwater.

One of the biggest advantages of his house's location was the lack of neighbors in the evening. All the few remaining houses had been converted into businesses, such as the stitchery shop immediately next door. Tony can play his music, his stereo, or his television without worrying about anyone being disturbed.

Just as he had finished tweaking a difficult stanza, his cell phone rang.

"DiNozzo."

"Sheriff, this is Deputy LaFont. Can Deputy Washington and I come speak to you?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes, sir. If we could."

"C'mon over. I'm home."

"Thank you. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

After disconnecting, Tony put his papers in the piano seat's storage area. He decided to put a pot of coffee on for the two deputies since they were still on-duty.

Just shy of the fifteen minutes estimated there was a knock on the door. Tony opened the door wide, ushering the two women into the house. Whatever the reason for wanting to see him was definitely causing some tension with Deputy Washington, if not LaFont.

"Please, have a seat. I have fresh coffee." He waved them to the sitting area, a small couch and two loveseats opposite to where the piano resided.

"That would be great, Sheriff," Lauraine said with a smile. "We'll both have a cup. Can I help?"

"Nope, I can handle it." He headed into the kitchen, letting his superior hearing listen for hints behind their visit.

"Laurie, I can't do this." Tanisha furiously whispered. "I've only been here a couple of months."

"You need to at least ask him. The worst is that he says no, but I bet he doesn't."

Three mugs were carried back on a tray that also had sugar and a small pot of creamer. Once everyone was settled, their coffee doctored appropriately, Tony sat back. "So, what can I do for you?" 

Lauraine waited for Tanisha to speak before getting frustrated and poking her friend's bicep with a sharp finger. "You know Tanisha and my brother are getting married."

"I do, although I don't know exactly when."

"We thought a Christmas wedding, Sheriff," Tanisha finally spoke.

"You need time off for that, obviously."

"Yes, sir, I do."

"And then there's the honeymoon."

"Maybe three days, if I could?" Tanisha jerked to the side when her friend poked her again.

Tony shook his head. "Not acceptable, Deputy Washington."

Twin shocked faces soon had him grinning. "I'm thinking two weeks."

"Sir?"

Tony leaned forward, taking Tanisha's free hand in his. "You deserve a honeymoon, even if you guys aren't leaving town. So, you and Greg make your plans, give me the dates you'd like to take and I'll work the schedule around your leave."

A sniff was Tanisha's only sign of emotion before she broke out in a laugh. "I didn't want to ask for time off when I'm your newest hire. Thank you so much, boss!"

"You're welcome."

They downed their coffee, taking their leave with much more relaxed demeanors.

~Stillwater~

Tony had fixed himself some dinner before returning to his beloved piano. Instead of working on his score, he decided to play some of his favorites instead. He lost himself in the music, the notes floating out into the darkness.

He had moved from _Moonlight Sonata_ to _Canadian Sunset_ when he realized that someone was playing a harmonica in harmony with him. He blinked, but didn't lose his place. Once he finished, he watched the front door open, Gibbs letting himself in, followed by FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell.

Fornell slipped his harmonica into his top pocket, nodding at the Tony. "Damn, kid, you're better at that then I realized."

"Thanks, Fornell. You're not here to arrest me, I hope?"

"Not this time, DiNutzo. Although you really kicked a hornets' nest."

Gibbs' mouth twitched, passing into the kitchen to feed his addiction. "How old is this, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked at his watch. "Just about two hours, Gibbs."

"Fornell? Coffee?"

"I'll take a cup."

Taking seats in the sitting area where not long ago Tony had faced his female deputies, he waited to find out the reason for the FBI's visit.

"So, you said I kicked a hornets' nest? How?"

"Antoine Bourgeois."

Tony stared at Fornell, his mind racing through the possibilities. Then he sighed. "He's undercover."

"Yep. For the State Attorney General and Department of Justice. Your calls may have done more to cement his position than any back cover we devised. Can I ask what had you poking about?"

"His uncle was concerned, wanted me to offer him a job to get him away from a dirty department. But when I started doing a bit of background, it looked like he was more connected than his uncle knew. I didn't go in too deep, so I didn't pick up anything off."

"Gotta admit that seeing you were snooping around had me worried. Who's his uncle?"

Tony explained who Bernard Bourgeois was, advised them to have Antoine quietly get in touch with his uncle and wave him off. "He won't need to go into details, but it could save Antoine problems. I'd do it, but it would look too strange."

"I can't believe you gave up police work for a small town like this."

Tony smiled contentedly. "It suits me, Fornell. I've gotta admit that I never would've loved the slower pace, but it still has moments."

"And you don't miss NCIS?" Fornell asked, still unable to wrap his head around it.

"Some of the people, sure. But the job? No." His face drew bitter. "It isn't the Agency that I first joined. They've lost their way, if you want my opinion. I'm too much a cop at heart to just ignore the law as much as I was being asked to. Sorry, boss."

"Nothing to apologize for. Once I got away, I realized just how much you were right. I didn't listen to the one person that I should've most of all," Gibbs said gruffly.

"I think the new SecNav might be just what NCIS needs to kick them back into line," he observed.

"You've met her?" Fornell sipped at his coffee.

"Nope, but Gibbs has. And based on what he said, plus what I've heard through the grapevine since I've last, she's all over Vance. Seems there's been a large exodus of people from the Navy Yard and she is not pleased."

Fornell shrugged. "You reap what you sow."

"And NCIS has sowed entirely too many personal agendas. Even for politicians, which most directors are at heart, you need to keep the mandate of your job and your country first, as well as the welfare of your people. We'll see what happens in a year or two." Tony shook off the melancholy of what could've been. "Now, I have apple coffee cake, anyone interested?"


	8. Robbie Ridgely

Chapter 8: Robbie Ridgely

Tony, bundled in his puffy winter uniform outer coat, watched the Stillwater High School marching band pass by. He wondered how the baton twirling cheerleaders could stand the bitter cold, even in the sparkly tights.

"Determination. Lots of practice. Thermal underwear."

Tony smiled when Gibbs chuckled at his lack of reaction to his presence.

"Always knew you had better situational awareness than you showed at NCIS. Why did you pretend otherwise?" Gibbs handed Tony a covered cup.

Prying the lid off and breathing deeply, the Sheriff's green eyes crinkled in delight. "Hot chocolate. With mini-marshmallows. Thanks, Jethro."

"You avoiding the question?"

His eyes scanning the crowd gathered to watch the town's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Tony shrugged. "When we first got Vivian, she struggled to figure out a way to deal with you. You were bigger than life, especially with her Hoover buddies. Face it, boss, you're part legend, part boogie man to most of them. She felt inadequate because you never made me jump like you did her. Once she left and we got Kate, I thought it might help if I pretended not to see you coming. Looking back, it probably wasn't the best idea. But then Tim joined us. He was such a timid rabbit. You managing to still startle and surprise someone who had been with you for a while helped bolster his confidence."

Tony stepped off the curb, leaning forward to look up the street. "MICHAEL ARMSTRONG! If you set off those firecrackers, you're gonna be missing the school dance. And football practice for the next month."

A sheepish nod followed by a swiftly pocketed lighter and firecrackers had Tony dropping back, taking a sip of chocolate.

"You've become comfortable here."

"Who would've thunk?"

"I think I might have, if I'd taken the time to consider it." Gibbs waved at his father who was moving slowly through the crowd.

"Wow," Tony said softly. "That float is as good as any in the Macy's parade."

"The VFW works on the design almost all year. They usually start building about a month out. Dad helps."

"Leroy, Tony. You boys enjoying the parade?" Jackson Gibbs patted both men on their backs in greeting.

"Jack, you built that float?" Tony asked in awe.

"I just helped a little bit."

"More than a bit, Dad. Tony's right, that may be the best float yet."

Tony's handi-talkie squawked. _*Sheriff, we have a problem next to the high school.*_

"What kind of problem, Lauraine?"

 _*The FFA float's flatbed has collapsed at the entrance to the staging field. One tire bent out and it can't be moved. It's still half-way out into the street.*_

"I'm on my way. Can we borrow a crane from the lumberyard to hoist it out of the way?" Tony broke into a trot as he headed to the area, aware that trying to drive there would be time-consuming.

 _*I'll call and ask.*_

Tony wasn't surprised to find Gibbs by his side as he headed down the street. With a quick nod, the men fell into step.

The situation was quickly taken care of. Other floats ending the parade were directed to an empty field farther down the road while waiting for the crane to arrive. Gibbs, donning a bright yellow vest from the trunk of Deputy LaFont's car, began directing traffic around the stricken float. Tony did the same with the people, both parade participants and curious onlookers.

The crane arrived on its own flat bed, too heavy and slow to be driven on the streets from the lumberyard. The unloading was a magnet for all the children who had been present at the parade. On the verge of being overwhelmed with foot traffic, Tony called for help on his handi-talkie.

"Ridgely, could use you at the staging area. Can you leave Townsend to deal with traffic at Main and First?"

 _*Yes, sir. It's moving smoothly here. I'm on my way.*_

Less than thirty minutes later, the float had been moved off the road to a dirt and weed filled section of the field. The vehicle's owner promised to get it repaired as quickly as possible. It took longer to convince everyone watching that nothing else was going to happen, that they could move along.

A lovely woman surrounded by four children whose ages ranged from pre-teen down to pre-school, walked up to Deputy Robbie Ridgely, giving him a quick kiss.

"Sheriff, I don't believe you've met my wife and children. Fiona, this is Sheriff Tony DiNozzo."

Smiling warmly, Tony shook Fiona's outstretched hand. "Mrs. Ridgely, it's a pleasure."

"Please call me Fiona. Robbie has had nothing but nice things to say about you. Unlike Ed."

"Fee."

"What? I'm sure Sheriff DiNozzo knows exactly what type of man Ed Gantry is."

"Yes, ma'am, I do. And please call me Tony. These are all yours?" Tony said to redirect the conversation that was embarrassing his deputy.

"Only when they behave. Otherwise they are Robbie's children." She laid her hand on the oldest boy's shoulder. "This is Carl, my eldest. Next to him is Steven Douglas, a terror on his skateboard. If you catch him skating on the sidewalks in front of the shops again, you have my permission to thrown him into the nearest cell."

"Mooom," the boy complained. "It was just one time."

"One time too many. I know you can read the signs posted prohibiting bicycles, skateboards, and roller skates there."

Tony took pity on the embarrassed Steven. "I'm certain he learned his lesson, Fiona."

Casting a jaundiced eye at her son, Fiona moved on. "This is our son, Jace, and the baby of the family, Miranda Louise."

"Glad to meet you all," Tony said, never knowing what to say to kids that didn't make them hate him.

"Sheriff Tony!"

Tony searched for the young voice shouting for his attention. He quickly realized that it was coming from a young boy sitting in the crane's cab, waving wildly.

"Andy?" Looking past the boy, Tony saw that Lauraine's brother, Greg Whitman, was the crane operator. "Wow, kiddo. That must've been cool."

Ten-year-old Andy LaFont had taken to Tony from the moment they met at the station, although Tony couldn't understand why. Well, there was the fact that Tony was discussing the best Disney movies of all time with the station's new clerk, high school senior Eric, when Andy walked in. Andy, much like Tony, was a film buff, diving quickly into the relative merits of animated versus live action Disney films.

"Yeah, Uncle Greg even let me work the controls."

Greg gave a nod to the people standing nearby. He was, if possible, even more than taciturn than Gibbs at his most function muteness. Tony was constantly amazed at how his ebullient Deputy Tanisha Washington ever got together with him, much less got a marriage proposal. He always reminded himself that Greg might be an entirely different man when courting a woman. Just look at Gibbs, almost as big a flirt as Tony when a woman attracted him.

"Thanks for coming, Greg. Please let the lumberyard owners know how much I appreciate their help."

Another nod.

"Good talk. Wish I could stay and chat some more, but duty calls." Tony called it a win when he saw Greg's mouth twitch and his eyes squint just a bit with crinkles at each end.

As Tony moved away, heading back to the downtown area, he was stopped by a hand on his forearm. He turned to see Fiona Ridgely looking intently at him. "Fiona, is something wrong?"

"No, thanks to you, there isn't."

"I don't understand."

"Robbie was on the verge of quitting before you were hired. He was so disgusted with how Sheriff Gantry ran this town. Or perhaps I should say how Chuck Winslow ran it. I would've understood and followed him anywhere, but it would've dragged the children away from their friends and a school they love. So, thank you." Fiona leaned up to give Tony a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"You're very welcome. Robbie's a good man, I would've hated to have lost him before I got a chance to know him. I'm glad he waited just a little longer."


	9. Ashlee & Malcolm Stamper

Tony was underneath his new baby, the classic Mustang that he had bought from the Trulane brothers. Although the skies were clear, not a cloud in sight, it was bitterly cold. He knew he would need a garage, with heat, if he wanted to continue working on the car through the winter.

He was interested in the space behind the travel agency next door, but it would cut off parking for the three people working there. Another option, if he could find the owner, was the land behind his house. There was no structure on it, although some people appeared to have used it as a dumping ground for used tires and scrap wood. Due to an alley running behind all the buildings on Main Street, there was no way to connect the garage to his house, but it was a short enough walk, even in the rain and snow.

Currently the Mustang was parked in the small area behind his house designated for his personal vehicle. For the time being, he kept that car in the parking lot next to the police station just a block away. When he wasn't working on the Mustang, he would cover the engine, his current project, with a tarp, tying it in place. Luckily, the car's body was in remarkably good shape. The interior, however, was another matter entirely. Both the upholstery and carpet would need replacement.

His cell phone trilled. Rolling out from under the car, Tony dug into his pocket. "DiNozzo."

"Where are you?" Jackson Gibbs asked.

"Behind the house. Give me a minute and I'll come let you in." Tony hung up, climbing stiffly to his feet, moving slowly through the back door. He removed his boots in the small mudroom, padding to the front door in his heavy wool socks.

Unlocking the deadlock, he opened the door to see Jackson at the pots of poinsettias on the front porch.

"Pretty nice looking."

"A gift from Effie Mae. Said I needed some color for the front until I can decorate for Christmas."

"Decorate? It's a little early for that. We haven't had Thanksgiving yet," Jackson replied, shedding his coat into Tony's waiting hands.

"That's what I said. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to decorating my first home, but not until Thanksgiving has passed." Tony led the way to the kitchen, knowing that the elder Gibbs enjoyed sitting at the small dining table while Tony made coffee or prepared whatever meal he was making when they met for dinner. "Always ticks me off that Thanksgiving is overwhelmed by Christmas sales and decorations. Now it's Halloween that has to compete with Christmas."

Jack nodded. "Won't be long before the Christmas displays stay up year-round."

"I hope not. That would take all the joy and magic out of Christmas." Tony held up a mug. "Coffee? Won't take a minute to fix. Should warm us both up."

"Sounds good." Sitting at the table, Jack pulled out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "Leroy said you might want to buy that lot behind you, but couldn't get in touch with the owner."

"I did some general searching on the internet, but despite the taxes being paid timely, I haven't had any luck finding the owner. County sends the bills to a post office box."

"The owner is 96 years old. Name is Octavius Miller. Best I can find out, he's in a nursing home in North Carolina, near where his son lives with his family. I have his son's name and phone number here."

Amazed, Tony took the paper, reading Jack's chicken scratch writing. "How did you find this?"

"Well, I remember when Octavius used to visit his lots. He has more up and down this alleyway. He hoped it would be an investment for his kids and grandkids, but this part of town never took off. Too many restrictions due to the proximately of the schools. Met his son the last time Octavius visited. Probably fifteen years ago. I know I cashed a check for the son, so I just went back through my files. Luckily the son hadn't moved since then."

"Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate this." Tony filled two mugs with coffee. He brought out a plate of homemade lemon poppy seed cookies to the table as well.

"You still looking for another deputy?" Jack asked as Tony doctored his coffee.

"One, hopefully two. You know someone who might be interested?"

Jack laughed. "Not a chance. Just wondering how the search was going."

"A buddy in L.A. thinks he knows someone who might be interested."

"When will you know?" Jack asked as he dunked a cookie in his coffee.

Tony shrugged. "A couple of days or so. We're trying to arrange something other than just a phone or Skype call. I prefer to meet in person, so that either means I go there or they come here. Right now, with Tanisha's impending wedding, I'd prefer to stay in town."

"She isn't getting married until Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, but with the amount of stuff to be done before hand, she might need extra time off. I want to be here to cover for Tanisha when she needs it."

"You're a good man, Tony."

A slight blush on his face, Tony demurred. "It's just what you do."

"No, it's just what _you_ do. Think of your people, what they need to be happy in their job."

~Stillwater~

Three days later, a couple walked into the Stillwater Sheriff's Department. The man was tall, obviously muscular even in his winter coat, a wary smile on his dark tan face. The woman with him was quickly assessing the area even while speaking with Effie Mae, her long blonde hair twisted into a loose chignon.

Tony watched relatively unobserved as the couple managed to talk their way past the Keeper of the Gate. He had expected to only talk to Malcolm Stamper, a homicide detective from Long Beach, California, but if he was right, the woman was also a police officer.

"Detective Stamper, welcome to Stillwater." Tony stepped out of his office, offering his hand in greeting.

"Sheriff DiNozzo, thank you. This is my wife, Ashlee."

"Mrs. Stamper, are you uniform or detective?" Tony asked as he shook her hand as well.

Ashlee Stamper threw her head back and laughed. "Uniform. I'm a patrol sergeant in Santa Monica. Well spotted, Sheriff."

"Please have a seat. Water? Coffee? I even have tea, if you're inclined."

"Tea would be lovely," Ashlee responded.

"Coffee, sir." Malcolm gingerly sat in the visitor's chair.

After setting the tea to steep and pouring a cup of coffee for Malcolm, Tony sat behind his desk. "So, I know that you are interested in coming to work here as deputy sheriff, Detective Stamper, but what about you, Sergeant?"

Ashlee blinked. "We weren't aware that you were looking for more than one person."

"My goal is to have two new deputies, if possible. Let's talk, then if we both like what we hear, we go from there. Tell me about yourselves. I've got the official resume stuff, I want to hear why you both want to make such a huge change."

Ashlee and Malcolm exchanged a long, intense look before Malcolm began speaking. "There's a couple of reasons. The first is cost. Even with both our salaries, it is expensive to live comfortably in California. We have a small house in Long Beach that we rent. Makes a long distance for Ash to drive to her job. We have two children. Jennilynn, who is 6 years old. And Marc, 14 and convinced he is an adult. With my long hours and Ashlee's, we don't have as much time to give to them as we should."

"To be honest, Marc has friends that, well, if they aren't gang members, they are pretty damn close!" Ashlee exclaimed. "Sorry, sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. At least you are involved enough with your son to be worried about this. We're all cops, we've all seen parents who just can't be bothered. Or are too busy to notice." Tony got up to pour the tea into two china cups, bringing one to Ashlee. "Honey or sugar? I also have lemon slices and cream in the fridge, if you're interested."

"Honey and cream, if it isn't too much trouble?"

"Since I'll be getting it for myself, no trouble at all. Be right back." Tony walked to the meeting/break room where he had installed a newer refrigerator to keep lunch and drinks for the deputies and staff. He knew that Ashlee needed a moment to recover.

Once Tony returned, he got down to business. Now that he knew why they wanted to move, he could turn his focus on their expectations and what he could offer, both jobwise and personally.

A little over an hour later, he was ushering them out of his office, pleased to have his two last hires. If they agreed. Directing them to the diner at the other end of the parking lot, Tony decided to call for help from Fiona Ridgely and Ava Alvarez. The women would know what the parents would need to know in regards to their children. Plus, Manny's wife was a realtor who could show them the houses available in the area suitable for a family.

Effie Mae walked to Tony's office once the couple were allowed out the parking lot entrance. "Well?"

Tony grinned. "If they accept, and I think they will, we now have our full-time staff!" Impulsively he leaned forward and gave Effie Mae a smacking kiss on the cheek.

She frowned, but her eyes were twinkling. "Go off with you. Honestly."

Tony laughed, then quickly got on the phone to Fiona and Ava. His new team was complete. Even considering the amount of time involved in moving across the country, as well as the two weeks or so to work out their notice, he would have everyone in place long before Tanisha would leave on her honeymoon.

The End

Author's Notes: Thank you for sticking through the long gaps as I've written this story. There will be another installment in the series, but not for a while, so be patient. I'm still working on other Tony-centric NCIS stories, never fear!

April 2017


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